No-wax, easy maintenance, bacteriostatic, and anti-slip.
Read Reader, Read!
Go see Jon. Read Jon’s blogs. Jon is in Australia. I don’t think Jon is standing on his head right now (although that would be a neat trick). Jon is a good guy who likes more readers.
Read his blogs (three!) and be amazed.
Your pal,
bob
P.S. He writes nice things about me there too.
So We Caught Them, Now What?
Would you rather…
invite other people’s in-laws to Thanksgiving dinner in addition to your own,
or
hold a fun turkey round-up on your free range?
a) One set of in-laws wasn’t enough?
b) Git along, little turkey.
Seems a little excessive,
bob
Editor’s Note: This is the first of hopefully a single issue series. Please plan accordingly.
Dear Mr. Lonelyhearts
Dear Mr. Lonelyhearts,
My partner of fifteen years and I have decided to break up. We have decided that we have irreconcilable differences and our couple’s counselor agrees. One of us likes to go out and be active in the community advancing our political agenda, the other prefers to stay at home and maintain a cozy household. You see, our interests have diverged and we feel that we aren’t as compatible as we once were. What do you think?
Very sad,
S. and A. in S.D.
Dear S. and A.
Snap out of it! You’re as compatible as two peas in a pod, you just can’t see it right now. Everybody is going through a bout of crankiness at this time of year. Light deprivation is a well-documented source of mental anguish. Can you honestly tell me that you no longer have anything in common? Just now? Did some karmic switch flip to “off”?
I think not. You’re both sad and angry. You’re clearly not thinking straight because of it. My advice is to fire the counselor and find a new one who can actually help you remain a couple.
Fire the counselor!
Dear Mr. Lonelyhearts,
My in-laws are coming for Thanksgiving, but I’m serving some non-traditional food like tamales. How do I break the news to them?
M.L. in K.
Dear M.L.
Hey! You’re me! I’m just going to serve tamales and whoever wants them can have them. If they don’t, it’s their loss.
The end.
…and that’s really the end.
Your pal,
bob
That’s A Trick Play, Right?
Would you rather…
bottle pond water as a new energy drink alternative,
or
be a cheerleader for the Air Force Academy?
a) Now with larvae-flavored power pellets!
b) Air strike! Air strike! We’re callin’ in an air strike!
I feel revitalized,
bob
So, Where Have You Been? – Part II
Today was my last day at the Omnipresent Non-Profit Charitable Organization. The vendor has bolted the control boxes to the remaining wall space in already cramped equipment rooms. The lines are getting slowly cut over. The receptionists received brief training sessions.
It’s all happening according to my plans and I won’t be there to see if it works. Does that matter to me, you ask? Only a little. I’d like to see the changeover take place smoothly, but I’d rather not listen to the crabbing on Monday morning when people realize that their old, dear, favorite phone numbers no longer work.
Can anyone tell me why people grow so attached to randomly generated work phone numbers? Is it simply because they feel that it will be too difficult to notify each of their contacts of the change? We set up a disconnect recording that points callers to the new number. We’ve set up a directory system that callers can use. We have live operators who can transfer calls. What else do they want?
They want status quo, that’s what. People clearly hate change—except when they embrace it. Like when the new thing is clearly better than the old thing. In our case though, the vast majority of the people in the office won’t see a noticeable improvement in the quality of their work lives. The new system was designed to be cost-efficient by bringing the switch in-house and cutting most of the copper wires to the big gray box on the street corner, not to add pile of pretty features to everybody’s desk.
SBC takes a hit (aw gee, that’s a shame), the CHARITY saves a ton of money in the long run. And let’s be honest here, the phone company was not giving the charity any breaks on the price of that copper. None.
That’s a beautiful thing (as far as phones and charities go, of course) and I won’t get to see it in action. Or inaction if it goes terribly wrong.
Your best pal,
bob
P.S. It will be a lot of fun for you to send an email letting me know that you’re hiring. For maximum enjoyment, let me know who I need to speak with to apply for that job. I’m giddy just thinking of it!
P.P.S. Post-mortem on my job at a charity coming soon!
I Don’t Think You’re Going To Make It After All
Would you rather…
instruct 20,000 extras how to accurately portray fear for the next Irwin Allen disaster movie,
or
attempt to jump a Vespa over the fountain at Caesar’s Palace?
a) No! Wider! Eyes wider!
b) Gee, I wonder if I left the coffee maker on.
Be afraid, be very afraid,
bob
How Many Fingers Am I Holding Up?
Would you rather…
go to work every day wearing angel wings and perilously high heels,
or
believe that Martin Sheen is really president?
a) It’s tough maneuvering around the cubicles…
b) Okay, what day is it today?
I’m wearing $11 million underwear right now,
bob
That Explains A Lot
Would you rather…
be forced to make your final stand in the Great Pie Fight of 2003,
or
that all of your Powerpoint presentations are written and designed by your cat?
a) Sergeant Major! Let loose the rhubarb!
b) I like the fish and birds theme…
Yep, it was a meringue that got him,
bob
Very Interesting…
Would you rather…
hide out in Sedona, Arizona to avoid holiday arguments,
or
that all the cars in your neighborhood have been stolen except for yours?
a) Don’t forget Winona,
b) I don’t drive by that bus stop anymore.
I hear Glendale is lovely this time of year,
bob
A Low-Key Affair
Would you rather…
bring a giant beachball to the inauguration,
or
be the only one throwing a tailgate party on the steps of the capitol?
a) Hey look! I’m on the Jumbotron!
b) Hot dogs are ready…
Dignified, subdued,
bob
Oh, Excuse Me.
Would you rather…
be a headline writer for the Union-Tribune,
or
a Methane Reclamation Engineer at the county dump?
a) Officer shot, run over by car.
b) I’m working from home today…ooh! pizza’s here!
That’s one angry car,
bob
Welcome Shoe Tying Fans!
Would you rather…
try to account for your time travel experiments to the payroll department,
or
that everything you do today is revered as “The Fall Classic”?
a) If you fold my timecard, then join the top end to the bottom end…
b) It’s a crisp, cool morning as the lanky right-hander selects an oatmeal flavor…
I guess you could call it eight hours,
bob
Oh, That End Is Up
Would you rather…
be so good looking that even the good looking people are jealous and ignore you,
or
the lovable village idiot?
a) Oh sure, you think you’re so great…
b) Kid, if I were you, I’d consider politics.
You just can’t get a break,
bob
Now That’s Just Paranoid
Would you rather…
each exhibit at the zoo is accompanied by a live 30-second commercial,
or
be suspicious that everyone who calls you is selling something?
a) “To find out what was just thrown at you, call for this kit…”
b) If you were really my Mom, you’d know your maiden name…
Operators are standing by,
bob
So, Where Have You Been?
Funny you should ask. I’ve been working on the phone system at the Omnipresent Non-Profit Charitable Organization, looking for a real job (thanks Mike!), getting the gizmos to work with each other, fixing the newer Jeep (the old Jeep doesn’t really need any fixing, thank Jah), and arranging arrangements for Thanksgiving.
The phone system is being constructed on schedule by our vendor. The only problem is that I can’t get anybody’s attention to approve things that need to be approved when I need them approved. Things like phone tree scripts for instance. But hell, it’s not like that’s very important. Remember, I’m just some idiot temp—um, contractor.
By the way, if more of you know of a job that might be good for me (you know, intellectually challenging in a positive, progressive company that doesn’t mind spending good money for good work), please send an email. Won’t you?
Okay, so the little iBook can be (and is at the moment) connected to the Innernut via WiFi, so what’s the deal with using a cellphone as a modem? Because I can, or at least I should, and I used to. Something happened to the Moto T720 that kept it from connecting to Verizon’s network. I installed the modem script, bought the official Motorola USB cable, and had connected—once. After an hour and a half with tech support last night (“we don’t support Macs,” “that is beyond my level of technical expertise”), we finally figured it out. Get this, I had to get to the Programming Menu (press Menu, then 073887*, then your Security Code) to reset the data rate to the standard, piss-poor 14.4 Kbps. All is well, but it begs the question. Why?
Because I paid for the functionality, that’s why.
Beyond that, I finally bit the bullet and decided to synchronize the phone’s phonebook with the little iBook. I’ve been worried about doing this for a while and it turns out for good reason…
The phone’s book has become really, really crowded. Over 150 contacts are now in there. Anyone I’ve ever bothered to enter into the Palm over the last five years or so is now represented in the phone, so if I don’t call you, I hope you understand. I can’t find your phone number anymore.
And more on the “I seem to have finally figured out electrical things” front; the short in the Jeep Grand Livingroom appears to have been resolved. You know, the one that manifested itself in a horrible howl through all the speakers whenever I drove over a pothole? I bought a Blaupunkt stereo a couple of years ago online from Crutchfield (dangerous place, don’t go there. trust me on this) with the intention of installing it myself. They provide the install kit with the purchase, so I figured “why not?” Everything was fine for a year or so, then the short appeared. Briefly at first, then more regularly. Something had worked loose and I was determined to find it this weekend. The acid test was today on the way home from work. Same dip, no buzz.
The pessimist in me still thinks it’s only a matter of time. Rotten pessimist.
Your best pal in the whole wide world,
bob
And more… The Thanksgiving plans have gone according to my evil plan. It’s a simple one actually. I want to stay at home. What’s the downside? you ask. We’re cooking. Cleaning, and prepping, and moving furniture, and prepping some more, and cooking, and entertaining twenty five people or so, and feeding them, and picking up, and cleaning up, and then going to bed. It’s going to be a good crowd. My folks are coming, which will be a first. My sister, my nephew, and his Dad will be coming—also a first. And the in-laws. Nearly half of them will be in attendance (they account for the remaining twenty, if you were counting).
I’m really looking forward to it, and yes, it’s worth it.